So what?
by A. Lupin
Summary: So what? He took the bus to the Ministry. Yes, the muggle bus. So what? Her friends still understand why she just didn't apparate. She liked reading in the bus. So what? Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger use the same bus to go to the Ministry. So what?
1. Chapter 1

So what?

He took the bus to the Ministry. Period.

Yes, the bus. The _muggle_ bus.

So what?

He enjoyed a bit of time between his home and work, just to relax. He would just look around and try to figure out what were the reasons each of the individuals in the bus took it every morning at quarter to eight.

Take that man with the hat over there. If he wore a hat it meant that he would walk before or after taking the bus and he would use the hat in case it rained or it was cold. As it was raining today and his hat was not wet it meant he walked quite a distance after he got off the bus. He was carrying a suitcase, which implied he took some of his work home. Papers, most probably, taking into account the width of the bag. It was made of good leather but quite used, which he assumed meant that he had been working quite a long time in the same job. Compared to the rest of the muggles in the bus, he was not checking his terephown –or whatever that gadget was called- and from what he had learned this meant he had not urgent matters to answer (he still couldn't understand how that object could send messages without _physically_ flying like an owl). However, he normally took the time to speak quite pleasantly with middle aged woman in the bus, to whom he sometimes gave a small card.

Therefore, he decided the man worked in an office –and had done so for quite a long time- which was quite far from the bus stop where he got off, and whose paperwork was quite monotonous and didn't require constant updates or urgent messages. He decided he might be a marriage (or divorce) lawyer.

And so on and so on.

So what?

He was curious about muggles. Yes. But he was _so_ past blood prejudices. Great Draco Lucius Malfoy, not caring about blood origins. _Big_ surprise.

He didn't sit down. He never did. He was going to be sitting down for the next eight to ten hours of his day, so why bother sitting in the bus? Did muggles get more tired than wizards?

Please excuse this last question. The perks of a morning without coffee.

After ten minutes, he straightened his muggle clothing and pressed the _stop_ button. He liked to walk at least three minutes, so he always got down the stop before the entrance of the Ministry. The doors opened and before him a woman with a eight year old kid got off. With all the dignity he could muster, he also got down.

Her friends still understand why she just didn't apparate.

So what?

They did not understand all the good memories that came back when she got on a public bus. She remembered going to school every day, waiting for four stops to go by. Her bag was so heavy she would always try to sit. Even if it was for one stop. Or half.

So what?

Yes, its true this made her arrive late some days (by late she meant two minutes before her time). Well, most of the days. She knew she should take the quarter to eight bus, but she almost always missed it. But she kept taking the bus. She just found it comforting.

As soon as her bottom was on the seat, she would just take out a book from her bag (it didn't matter which), and start devouring. She didn't notice if it rained, snowed or if it was foggy. She just read. Great Herminone Jane Granger, reading. _Big_ surprise.

She sometimes forgot to press the stop button and she barely made it in time for the bus to stop, just like today. She quickly apologised for pushing some of the other occupants of the bus, mainly a man with a hat that was speaking to a woman animatedly, and she jumped off.

She was in front of the telephone cabin that took her directly to the Ministry. She entered and pressed the code.

Before going down, she thought she'd seen down the street a blond man she'd recognised. But she must have been mistaken.

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	2. Chapter 2

So what?

He knew the driver's name. He ought to, after taking the same bus for a few months.

"Good morning, Sam"

The driver nodded. He was a bald man with moustache under his big nose who always had a smile on his face. It was him who had told him the first day how he had to pay for the bus.

At first, he'd laughed when Draco had tried to pay him with a three banknotes of fifty pounds, as if it were the most usual thing in the world. When he'd realised the young man had really _no_ idea of the bus price, he'd explained everything with great detail. This is too much money for a bus ride; you should get coins, or even better, a transport card. Draco was so grateful he'd given him the whole fifty pounds so that he could keep the rest as a tip. As soon as he realised it, Draco had already disappeared down the bus. He tried to give it back the next day, and the day after, but he just wouldn't take it.

From his daily encounters, Draco could see Sam was satisfied with his job. He'd been at it for many years –he assumed it due to the fact that _every_ bus in London that crossed them flashed its lights in recognition – and he still had many left to go. He'd seen him a few times with a girl of around 12 with his same nose, and he assumed it was his daughter; therefore he would guess Sam was married and had at least one kid.

Today Draco was feeling a bit daring, so instead of staying in his usual place at the front of the bus, he went towards the end of it. He noticed the bus took the curves a bit more exaggeratedly and that the bumps where more pronounced, so for the sake of staying calm –and although he did trust Sam- he kept facing the front.

When it was the stop before his –which technically was now _his_ stop- he got off the bus. Slowly, the bus moved forward and he looked up instinctively, trying to identify the faces in it.

He suddenly felt a tingle of recognition on the girl that was seated at the back of the bus and that was pulling her skirt down whilst engrossed in a thick book.

He didn't have time to think about it twice, for when he tried to focus on her features, the bus was already gone.

So what?

She arrived panting at the bus stop so she could catch the bus that ran at half past seven, but she thought she'd kept her composure decently enough. It took the bus around twenty seconds to arrive, and by that time, she was as already breathing normally.

She took the back door, because she knew from experience –and logic- it would be less crowded and she would be able to sit down and read without many interruptions.

She managed to sit down two stops after, when a young man offered her his seat. It was clear to the rest of the bus that he was trying to catch her attention, and many women in the bus wouldn't have minded establishing a conversation with him, but she was too focused on _Best Antidotes for Internal Injuries_ to notice.

So without glancing at him twice, she flipped a page and sat down.

So what?

She was not used to skirts. The one she was wearing today was incredibly annoying. She had to keep pulling it down because she felt her legs too exposed. She cursed herself for wearing such a garment to work. There was a good reason, of course.

Ron had insisted on taking her to dinner tonight, apparently as friends, but she had the vague suspicion he might have other plans in mind. Still, she'd accepted; it has been long since she'd gone out, engrossed as she was with her research.

Being the curious witch she was, she felt something different in the bus today. It may have been due to the fact that she was sitting backwards, but she was not sure. The air felt different around her. Like… magic. Merlin, she was starting to sound as Professor Trelawney!

She concentrated again in her book.

It wasn't until a few stops later that she noticed it again. This time it engulfed her so deeply that she couldn't avoid analysing it. It was a smell. Of burnt wood, grass recently cut and an exotic spice she couldn't pinpoint. She quickly turned around, trying to discover where or _who_ was that scent, but it was too late. Just a faint memory of the smell lingered in the air, and she knew its owner had left. When she got down a few minutes after, she caught herself still reminiscing that scent.

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	3. Chapter 3

So what?

He had been raised to be a gentleman, so he let the woman get on the bus before him.

He looked at the woman methodically. He'd say she was around sixty. However, he was not so sure, given that muggles aged faster than witches and wizards. She was well dressed, with a high quality fabric dress –just remember he had spent many years shopping with Narcissa and Pansy- of an olive color. It was conservative, but being complemented with low heels made him think she was quite conceited.

She suddenly moved backwards and her hair brushed against his face. It was full of hairspray, which made him take a step back and almost cough. She turned around mumbling excuses, but when she saw him –and after checking him out from top to bottom- she gave him a dazzling smile. Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes as he saw her intentions. Being the gentleman he had been raised to be, he just moved his eyes around the people currently occupying bus.

He then remembered the woman he'd noticed some days before. He had the nagging feeling she was somewhat familiar, but he did not remember where to place her. What worried him the most was that that sense of familiarity took him back to his younger years. And of course during those years, his parents had made sure he had made no contact whatsoever with muggles.

So what?

So even today, he still remembered that moment as if it had just happened. Everything had occurred at once, and before he had processed it, he was in an unknown street in the middle of muggle London.

He'd seen it coming. The bicycle coming from the crossing to their right, appearing out of the blue and blocking their way; the sudden halt the bus had to do and inevitably his almost-fall. He'd seen the grey-haired man in the bicycle not looking in their direction and he knew what was bound to happen.

That was not, however, what had caused him to stand lost in the buzz of people hurrying to their offices or to school.

It had been _her_.

He'd quickly recovered of his almost-fall. He had secured his footage and managed to stay upright quite decently, just a few strands of hair out of place. He pulled them back gracefully behind his ear and smoothed his clothes.

He then had heard commotion at the end of the bus, where the olive dressed woman that had got on the bus before him laid sprawled in the middle of the corridor. He couldn't see clearly if she was hurt, because of all the people closing around her. He doubted she was even able to _breathe_. As he tried to have a clearer view of the woman, just for the sake of her health and not curiosity, he noticed a change in the air around him. If he weren't in a muggle bus, he'd say it was _magic_. Just a tiny bit, but magic all the same.

"Oh! I think its quite better now. I think I can even get up" He heard her say.

But Draco now knew someone had healed her with magic. That someone had risked being sanctioned by the Minsitry just to heal a sprained ankle in front of all those muggles. He or she had to be mental.

And then he saw her. And this time he recognised her. Hermione Granger. _Of course_. So _Gryffindor_ of her to heal a muggle's sprained ankle.

An anxious feeling started to come over him; what if she saw him? He knew he was doing nothing wrong, but he felt uneasy letting her discover his secret pastime. _Her_ , of all people. He was starting to panic. He looked around quickly to find a way out, and saw they were approaching a bus stop. He knew if he stayed she would see him, and she would of course acknowledge him and start a conversation. What would he say? What would she ask? Would they talk about trivial things like the weather or would she reproach him all the insults during all their years at Hogwarts? He had to get out of there, and soon.

So he hopped off the bus the second it stopped. Never mind where he was or if he'd arrive late to work.

When the bus disappeared, he let out the breath he was holding. His heart was racing fast, and he smirked ironically, for it had been long since he'd felt this way. _Alive_.

So what?

So she'd been on time two days in a row. She hadn't even run today. So what if lately she'd had trouble sleeping? It had nothing to do with Ron's proposal. Nothing at all.

She sat down at the end of the bus and started reading. _You must extract the essence of Murtlap at midnight when the moon…_

But her mind kept wandering back at her conversation with Ron a few nights before.

"'Mione…I'd like… I'd like us to be more than friends" He had said, looking at his feet and blushing. He had taken her hand then. It had felt rough and too warm.

She was so shocked she couldn't muster a word. Of course Hannah had told her. And Padma. Merlin, even Ginny! But she had refused to believe them. Furthermore, everyone had been expecting it. Two war heroes, best friends and with a long history of secret love for each other. Every few months the press would mention their most recent love escape or the date for their wedding.

"Ehm… say something, please"

"I…I… we've been through so much, Ron, and you've always been there for me" she started, smiling sadly. She could see his eyes sparkle in hope "but…I…I need some time to think it over."

He'd nodded enthusiastically.

"I need some time to figure out if I…we… are ready for a relationship. After all we've been through…the war, the deaths…"

"Uh…yeah… of course, 'Mione. I was waiting too, you know. But it's been a few years and I think… I'd like to start over, I guess".

She hadn't known what to answer, so she just bid him good night, pecked his cheek and left. That had been two nights ago, and she still hadn't decided.

She closed her book. When her head was so messed up, she couldn't even read. She knew Ron was waiting for her answer; Ginny had hinted so in her letters.

Hermione looked through the window, trying to doze off and forget about Ron for a bit. She knew the way by heart; she'd been taking the same bus route for a few years now. After Greeny's Grocery came the big poster announcing Tom's Office Supplies had a 20% discount all year round. He saw Tom briefly, under the advertisement, smoking as always with his left hand on the pocket of his trousers and his right hand holding the cigarette.

Her eyes moved forward to the people in the bus. She didn't know many faces, mainly due to the fact that she didn't always –almost never- catch this bus. But she had started to recognise some of the faces all the same. That young girl with heavy make up wearing those big headphones shaking her head constantly; or that…

It had to be her lack of sleep. It _had_ to be. She was hallucinating.

It was the only possible explanation. If not, how could one explain why spoiled, rich and pureblood Draco Malfoy, of all people, was standing in the middle of a muggle bus, _her_ muggle bus, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He even looked _comfortable_ in the situation.

It was too random. It was too impossible to be true. Damn hallucinations.

Before she had time to think it over or try to discover how long would that hallucination stand, she felt herself jerked forwards and backwards by the bus' motion. She recovered quickly. It had not been a real crash, she knew it; the jerking it would have been much worse. Still, she heard many cries and surprised yelps from those next to her. She looked around and saw a woman moaning in the floor.

She was complaining loudly about a broken -although she most likely thought it would be sprained- ankle. Hermione expertly evaluated the rest of the people in the bus and saw no one else was hurt, so she looked back at the woman on the floor.

So it had been the heels. _That's_ why she always wore flats. Of course, she had a few low heel shoes which wore in special occasions. The rest of the time she preferred practical flats.

Instinctively, she reached for her wand in her pocket. She doubted a second, examining those around her to see if someone was looking at her. As she saw no one fixated on her, she flicked her wand and muttered a spell.

"Oh! I think its quite better now. I think I can even get up". The woman said, batting her eyelashes at a young man in front of her. He waited to the bus to stop before he offered her his hand to lift her up. As soon as Hermione saw she was able to stand up she exhaled and relaxed.

With all that fuss, she had completely forgot about her hallucination. Draco Malfoy. _Draco Malfoy_. She lifted her head and quickly searched for him in the bus. But she obviously didn't see him. _That's what hallucinations, do, Hermione_. _They appear and disappear whenever they want._

It was during lunch time that she wondered how Draco Malfoy might be doing.

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	4. Chapter 4

So what?

So he'd been flooing for the last week directly into the Ministry. It had nothing to do with seeing Granger on the bus. Nothing at all. Its just he thought it was time to take up a habit normal people have (magic or otherwise): take the shortest way to their job. So this ment flooing from his fireplace to the main entrance of the Ministry.

So what? So he was a bit grumpy this last week – at least that was what his friend Blaise Zabini had pointed out. It was in no way related to having lost –purposefully deleted- that time of the day he needed to put some space between his job and his private life. The impasse he had to disconnect and forget about his daily tasks before getting home.

But today was a different day; he decided he was being childish and that he'd start taking the bus again. Okay, so maybe not his bus, but a bus, nonetheless.

He went to his usual bus stop and looked around. Yes, definitely behind that stall it would be a place as good as any other.

So he waited. He saw the bus before his pass by, and he took great care to inspect its passengers, looking for a bushy-haired girl in the back rows. But he didn't see her. Maybe it had been a one-time thing. He smiled at the irony. It was the same thing she'd said that night.

So he waited for his bus to arrive. It arrived one minute late, and he could see Sam furrowing his brows, trying to understand why he wasn't there. Draco's eyes lingered on the bus passengers, trying to find a glimpse of her. He didn't see her. When he started to go towards the bus, Sam changed gears and the bus went down the street. He swore under his breath and went back to where he had been waiting.

He felt so childish, hiding there. But to hell with it. There was nothing wrong with a bit of entertainment, although this was not the type of leisure you'd expect from a twenty-five year old wizard. He sighed. He'd take the next bus, which was due in four minutes exactly.

He was tapping his feet impatiently as he saw the bus approach. He went towards it decisively, for the second time that morning. And he saw her again. He saw her raise her head from her book as she noticed the bus reduce speed.

He stopped dead in his tracks when their eyes locked. They were exactly as he remembered them to be. Big, bright and honey-coloured.

Someone nudged him from behind.

"Excuse me, are you taking the bus?"

Then she smiled. Not a broad, charming smile like those she used to give Weasley, but a tentative, small smile. There she was again, opening up to him, as if he hadn't made her life at Hogwarts a living hell.

He didn't know how to react, so he just stood there, his face drained of colour.

And she was _still_ smiling. So he tried. He really _did_. He tried smiling back at her, but it felt so odd. Smiling to someone to whom you haven't talked in ages. As if they were best friends; or even friends.

Before he knew, she wasn't there anymore. He wondered if she'd seen his pathetic excuse of a smile. And then he wondered if taking the bus after his, _her_ bus, would get him to his job on time. He wouldn't have time to walk, that was sure. By the time he woke up from his daydream, the next bus arrived, and this time he took it.

So what?

So Ron had kissed her again. And she'd let him. Why shouldn't she? They'd had a nice evening together in one of the best wizard restaurants in London and he had brought her flowers. Who would have thought Ron was such a romantic?

She'd had a nice time, of course, but check the adjective she used. _Nice_. A date should be exciting, interesting, mind-blowing… not _nice_. She tried to clear her thoughts as she climbed the bus stairs. She bid the driver good morning and she walked towards the end of the bus. She nodded at a few people; she was starting to see familiar faces and smiling came easily to her.

Today she was reading _How to diagnose mental illnesses without a wand_ , chapter 3. The bus seats were not comfortable; rough, stiff and all, but as soon as she sat down and opened the book, the rest faded away. At least it had been that way since she'd seen that hallucination. Draco Malfoy's hallucination.

But it had been _so_ real… No, she was just under too much stress recently. But she couldn't help but look at the passengers that were waiting in all the bus stops she passed by. She'd been doing it the whole week. One day, Hermione had even awakened before she normally did to catch the bus before hers. The bus she'd seen _him_ in. As she had just noted, it was really distracting and it wouldn't let her concentrate.

This time the bus stopped, it was no different; she looked up quickly, just to make sure her hallucination was not there. But he was. And it didn't look like a hallucination any more.

Those grey eyes looked more real than ever. She couldn't see from so far away the emotions reflected in them, but his corporal expression said enough. He had just stopped where he was, as if he had been petrified. Surprise was evident.

She finally convinced herself it was real when a woman bumped into him and asked him something. She could tell she was quite impatient, but Draco Malfoy didn't answer or move. Did she have to wave at him? Or should she just ignore him?

He clearly had no idea how to act either.

So what? So she smiled at him. It was always her way to break uncomfortable situations. But could this even be considered a situation, taking into account how surreal it was? Draco Malfoy, at a muggle bus stop.

Then, a hesitant smile tugged his lips. She could see him struggling, but it only made her smile more.

She wore her smile until Hannah asked her if the reason she was smiling was last night's dinner with Ron.

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	5. Chapter 5

**So what?**

So she wasn't going to be afraid. She, Hermione Granger, war heroine, Gryffindor epitome, was not afraid of a simple conversation. She had conversations all the time; with colleagues, friends or unknown people who she just happened to meet.

So maybe the word was not afraid. _Reluctant_. Yes, reluctant was a better word for how she felt. How couldn't she feel reluctant when she was bound to speak, or at least greet, Draco Malfoy?

She knew he was not the same person he had been during those years at Hogwarts; all of the magic community knew. Everyone knew how he'd spent – _invested_ \- all his fortune in War Reparations. Hell, his company had even offered _her_ a compensation!

But who was Draco Malfoy now? No gossiping in magazines about his personal life, no attendance to social events… he was just a shadow in the Ministry.

Since her first hallucination –ok, so it hadn't been a hallucination- she had tried to figure out a bit more about him.

But she couldn't. She didn't see him at the canteen, at staff meetings, or even at Friday after work drinks most young employees took after a hard-working week.

And Hermione Granger didn't like not knowing. And worse, she didn't like not knowing after having tried researching.

So yesterday, after feeling guilty for Apparting to the Ministry, she had decided she was going to talk to him, just to satiate her curious mind. But today, already sat in the bus, in his bus, she was starting to feel _reluctant_.

 **So what?**

So he was a bit disappointed. So what? Yesterday he had expected to find her in his bus. She was lady proper, wasn't she? Maybe she expected him to catch her bus, the one that ran later?

Logically, the best option was to get the bus before, his bus. Why? Because there was a reason he took the bus before; if not, of course, he'd take hers. He needed those extra minutes to get off the stop before. He thought she was smart enough to understand. However, she'd been working with those House Elves recently, so maybe their lack of intelligence had rubbed on her. He smirked.

Still, he was a bit disappointed. Maybe she didn't want to speak to him. But that smile had said differently. Maybe she was having second thoughts about that smile.

He recalled he had taken a week, yes, a _week_ , since he first saw her to decide to catch the bus again. So he'd give her time.

But as he climbed the stairs of the bus, he saw that he needn't worry about giving her time. What had taken him a week to digest, had taken her a day.

He paid no mind to Sam or the other passengers who greeted him cordially. Not even that man dressed in a curious costume that any other day would have had him divagating the entire trip. He went straight to the end of the bus, where he had seen her.

He saw her looking at him and then look down again, and repeat the movement a few times more. He smirked again; so she was also nervous. He could work with that.

As he got closer, he noticed a few things that had changed about her. She now tapped her foot impatiently; she had never done so before, when he had sat many years in the last row of the classroom. She now wore a black plain handbag to complement her outfit, not a schoolbag like before, although he was guessing it was just as heavy. She had cut her hair at her shoulder's length, and although it ran a bit wild, it wasn't as frizzy as it had been.

He couldn't help but wonder how life had treated her during those years. Of course he knew all about her adventures and love life, the _Daily Prophet_ helped greatly, but how was she faring? How was she _really_ doing? Did she have nightmares about the war? Did she miss all those dear ones dead? Was she satisfied with her job? All those questions came to his head, but when he reached her, he just said:

"Hello there, Granger"

It took her three seconds to answer. Three tense, painful seconds.

"Hi, Draco. How are you doing?"

Seriously? That was her first question?

 **So what?**

So she had taken three seconds to answer? So what? So what it had been because she had been surprised by his height, his demeanour and his smell. Yes, his _smell_. She remembered suddenly those days ago when she had sniffed it, a spicy smell, full of recently cut grass and wood.

Of course she was dying to ask him _the_ question. But it was obvious she couldn't do it now.

"Hi, Draco. How are you doing?"

She didn't know why she'd ask such a _normal_ question. As if they were normal people meeting in a normal situation. But they were _not_ normal, and _not_ in a normal situation. She saw him try to hide a smirk.

"I'm doing fine, thank you. What about yourself?"

"I'm…fine, just a bit stressed at work." She couldn't help but wear a tiresome look.

"So I guess your project Improving House Elves Living Conditions is being a bit tricky?"

She snorted and rolled her eyes at his comment. Okay, so he said it without an ounce of malice in his voice. He'd even sounded as if he had been interested. _Genuinely_ interested. But she knew better. She did not believe for a moment Draco Malfoy was interested in improving the living conditions of house elves.

But he was still waiting for an answer, and even her snorting had not made him change his position or expression. She could also play by those rules.

"Tricky. Yes, you could say so. Article 42 of Non-Wizarding Beings Decree 1996 is proving hard to go round. It requires 75% of the Wizengamot to agree to any minimal change in the law. Seventy-five per cent!".

He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Have you tried pursuing Article 7.15 of Wizengamot code of conduct?". He raised his left hand to his chin, wondering.

"Have I…" was he really giving her legal adive? "No. You're right. I had only focused on loopholes in Non-Wizarding Being Decrees, not in the inactivity of the Wizengamot…"

She looked at him again. He was smirking as if he'd won, although it looked more like a playful grin. She wouldn't let him win, or at least let him think he'd won.

"But what if they stick to article 10.2. …" She started.

For the sake of her project, she would forget about who he was. It was surely going to be interesting sharing the bus ride.


	6. Chapter 6

**So what?**

So it hadn't been that bad. He had behaved quite civilly, much more that she'd expected; too much for her taste. He hadn't even hinted an insult. She was walking on foreign land, and she didn't like it.

But the thing is, she had checked out when she had arrived to work what he had proposed to solve her problem at work, and well… he hadn't been wrong. Which didn't mean he had been correct. But still.

Today was Thursday, which meant she was meeting Ginny afterwork to have tea. She smiled at the thought and quickly got dressed. She chose a white blouse, a navy skirt that reached her knees and thighs of the same color. She didn't apply any make up, but again, she never did. He took another sip of coffee before leaving the cup in the sink and getting her handbag ready. She bid Crookshanks goodbye, who purred at her.

She shut the door of her apartment and muttered the usual wards. She descended the stairs quickly, checking again her watch. She was surprised to see she was on time, even a bit early.

She arrived at the bus stop just when a bus arrived. But it was the bus _before_ his. She doubted a second. On the one hand, if she took this bus, she would arrive before to her workplace and would have some extra time to tidy up her desk, a task which definitely needed to be done. But on the other hand… it would be a rather dull ride. She decided she'd use the time to grab a take-away coffee in the nearest café.

 **So what?**

So she had quite the conversation. But that shouldn't surprise him; he was, after all, tired of hearing everybody refer to her as 'the brightest witch of her age'.

He was sure she would be on his bus. He knew she wouldn't back out of a challenge. A challenge, yes, that was a good adjective for what his encounters with her were. They challenged his composure, respect and his new _acquired_ beliefs. Salazar give him strength.

He arrived a few minutes earlier than usual. He couldn't loose the bus, for it would look like he couldn't stand up to her. He breathed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair absently.

Next to him was a teenage boy humming and tapping with his foot, and it was starting to annoy him. He was wearing faded jeans and a used t-shirt with a big logo in the front. Draco had never understood the need muggles had to show off the brand of the clothes they were wearing. Surely they could appreciate the quality without needing a stamp, right? Right.

The boy had started moving his head with the rhythm of the tapping and the humming. Draco rolled his eyes. It was too early in the morning, for Merlin's sake! He focused on his face, and saw it was rosy and full of pimples. He grimaced.

Just then, the bus arrived, and he searched automatically for a bunch of curls. They weren't there clearly for him to see, but before getting on the bus, he could swear he'd seen them at the row before the last.

 **So what?**

So she had forced herself not to look through the window until the bus had stopped. It was then when the passengers waiting in the bus stop had started to move and therefore they couldn't see her watching.

She saw his unmistakable bright blond hair; of course he would come, he was too proud not to. She watched him smile at the driver and exchange a few words with him. She was stunned at the normalcy with which he spoke to muggles and move freely _and_ gracefully among them.

She was still looking at him when she saw he was getting closer, so she quickly started rummaging through her bag, looking for a book, an excuse, or whatever helped.

"What are you looking for, Granger?" She heard him say from above.

"My book, I…" How could she have forgotten her book?

He snorted slightly, and automatically she raised her head.

"What are you laughing at?"

"It's just that… Hermione Granger without a book… Salazar save me", he said laughing lightly.

 _Everyone_ made a joke about hear reading habits. She let them. But she wouldn't let _him_ joke about them. He wouldn't let him joke about anything about her. He had not deserved it.

"So?" she said, starting to get edgy "I have many other hobbies and things to do apart from reading. Although given the fact that _you_ don't know me at all, you wouldn't know it".

"I don't know you _at all_? After spending so many years together?"

She shouldn't have blushed, but she did. He was good at playing with her, damn it. She opened her mouth to retort, but he hadn't finished.

"I can still visualize you at class, raising your delicate hand _even_ before the question was made." And there it was, his trademark smirk.

 _That_ infuriated her more, so she shot back.

"And I can still visualize _you_ insulting muggle-borns and hexing innocent younger years" she retorted, crossing her arms defensively.

"You know I was raised to-"

"You were sixteen, you could have chosen-"

She heard him laugh bitterly. As he did so, his pale blue eyes glittered.

"Seriously, Granger? How naïve are you? A choi-"

"Everyone has a choice." She said slowly, lowering her voice.

She noticed his eyes dart immediately to his covered Dark Mark. She followed his gaze and winced.

"I get down here", he lied.

And she knew he'd lied.

"Oh… Hum… See you," She blurted.

"Whatever" He muttered, as he turned around and went towards the bus door.

Everyone, please tell me what you think! I really appreciate it!


	7. Chapter 7

I hope I don't mess up too much with all the time jumps. There you go, another chapter. A long one, since its been quite a long time since I last wrote.

So what?

 _***Today_

So he'd missed his bus the day before, and that had been the cause of all the unfortunate happenings of that day. But it hadn't been his fault, he was sure about that.

It had been Blaise's fault. Not his. He wanted to be clear on that point. It had all started with the celebration of Blaise's raise two nights ago, when he had been dragged along to the Wicked Wonders, where he'd had too many firewhiskeys.

Thank Merlin today he'd had a good night's sleep, because today he had to take the bus. Just to prove her that it hadn't been on purpose. He had charmed his wand to wake him up earlier tan normal, and even charmed it twice, just to make sure. He was not going to miss the bus, not today.

As he had seen on his mother's pensive, the firewhiskey had definately done wonders to him. He still growled at the recollection of two nights ago.

*** _Two days ago_

"So, I was the other day with Nott. Did you know he _proposed_? At some fancy restaurant in front of at least 70 people. They say he was stuttering so much he had to repeat it thrice!"

They had been going over all their fellow house Hogwarts acquaintances for the last hour and had taken a sip of their glass for each one that had already committed.

Draco knew it was not normal for him to be still single. Of course, his name didn't have the best of the reputation, but he could make up for it in gold.

"Draco, what have you been up to recently? Haven't seen you around much. Does a certain witch have something to do with it?"

Blaise's question had been entirely innocent. Of course no one knew about Granger and himself. Granger and himself? He groaned at how easily it had come to him.

But having drunk a bit too much, Draco hesitated in his answer, and that was enough for Blaise. His eyes sparkled in anticipation.

"So there _is_ a witch! Daphne said you hadn't answered her recent letters and she was worried. And for what I see, there is a reason for it!" Blaise grinned triumphantly.

Granger had definitely nothing to do with Draco's recent 'forgetfullness' at answering the owls Daphne had sent. She had done it herself, stalking him everyday and talking about pureblood offspring.

"She has nothing to do with it" It had slipped. Blaise raised his eyebrows. "Salazar's bones, Blaise, I promise. Daphne was jus tiring me…" he motioned with his hand and rolled his eyes. "Daphne is too…"

"too…"

"Right! Yes, that's it, she is to right for me" he said, taking another sip of his drink. "But she is just the opposite. She…" he lowered his head into his hands. "Merlin, I'm talking as if she were my girlfriend or something. And I just talked to her a few times" another sip, a longer one. "I mean, I can't even stand her! But she just sits there, and… and…gah!"

Why was he even saying that? It had just been a few encounters. And not even _planned_! So he had been tired of his routine (that's one of the reasons he decided to try the muggle bus) and she just added a bit of… _life_? To his life. Scratch that. He nodded his head furiously, trying to get her out of it.

"Whoa, mate. Who's gotten you so worked up?" Draco looked at his friend in the eye and realised what he'd said and how he was behaving.

"Forget it. Damn you and your firewhiskeys" he banged the glass against the table, leaving a few galleons too. "I'm leaving".

"Hey, HEY! Draco! What…" but he left before he could finish the sentence.

As he apparated into his apartment, he landed in the sofa and fell into a troubled sleep.

 _***Today_

He looked at his image in the mirror. At least today he wasn't looking as hungover as yersteday. He tried a smile, but it was too forced.

He collected his papers from his desk. He'd taken more reports home tan usual. She had messed his day up too much.

 _***Yesterday_

His head was still hurting when Matilda told him he had a visitor. He couldn't ask the visitor to come into _his_ office; he shared office with four other wizards.

"Take him to meeting room number four" He said without raising his head from his papers and without asking who it was. He had been waiting for Percy Weasley's visit all week, so he assumed it was him. Matilda hadn't corrected him; she knew it was better not to do so when he wasn't in the mood.

He opened the door and froze as soon as he saw who was waiting for him. His mind went blank as she stood up clumsily from her chair, straightening her already straight trousers.

His body and brain wouldn't react –mainly due to yesterday's party-, and he couldn't help but stare.

"What…what are you doing here?" He barely whispered, totally confused. He eyed the papers she had brought with her and that were now on the table of the meeting room. He looked at her again

"I… there is a financial matter I'd like to discuss," she said timidly, without looking at him directly.

Since when did _she_ come to discuss financial matters? It was normally her colleague, Hannah, who did so. Furthermore, she didn't talk with him, but with Mathias, who was much more lenient with financial mistakes.

"Is there something wrong with that?" He started to hear a bossy tone under that question, which he was sure, if he didn't answer, would lead to another fight.

"Excuse me… this is just unexpected. Please take a seat."

So What?

So what if she had decided to get interested in financial matters? And there he was, saying it was unexpected. Of course it was unexpected. Hannah had been surprised, to say the least. So had Tom, their boss, but he wasn't able to say no to the most promising witch of his department.

 _***Today_

But today was a new day, she had decided. She had brushed her hair half a dozen times (just a bit more than normally) and cursed it thrice (just as normal). With a last look in the mirror, she left.

She couldn't miss the bus today. It would mean yesterday's embarrassments and uncomfortable silences had been for nothing.

 _***Yesterday_

"Excuse me… this is just unexpected. Please take a seat."

"Right. So I have compared the real financial results of the project to the estimated ones, and I see there is a great deviation regarding income." She said.

She saw him blink a few times before moving towards his chair, pulling it backwards and sitting down. She contemplated this mysterious man as she did so. Why hadn't he turned up at the bus this morning? Had it been because of their small fight the day before? It had been nagging her all morning until she had decided to come by and ask him. Ask him for financial matters, of course.

She was enervated at how naturally elegance came to him. Swift movements, all synchronized and without a hint of doubt. Not even as he pulled a lock of platinum hair behind his ear.

"Just give me a moment to check it out."

Without asking, he bent forward to get her parchments. She crossed her arms defensively. He'd see it soon enough, if he checked her detailed and precise notes. That was not fair.

He started rummaging through her parchments, scanned the document a few times moving his eyes quickly across the page. She noticed a tired look to his face and wondered what was the cause.

"I see," she waited, "from what I gather, and taking into account I am not the Lead Arthimatist in this project" he paused and she blushed, having known that perfectly well, "your main problem is that you didn't receive the expected funds from the Ministry or from private donors as expected"

It had taken her an hour, at least, to figure it out. How had he done it so quickly? It must have been her notes. Yes, definitely.

"That's what I thought too," She said, taking back her notes. " I have been revising how the calculation was made, and well… the expected funds were based on a recent project regarding homeless cats."

He snorted dramatically. "So you're saying 60% of your income is based on the pity people have on cats?"

That superiority of his!

"It's not pity, its love! I've had Crookshanks with me since I was 13 and he's been nothing but a great support in times of need!" She said, getting closer to him.

And just then he started laughing. Not a small, polite laugh, but a truthful laugh that filled up the whole room.

"I should have known," she said angrily as she started to collect the parchments on the table. She was starting to feel hot and embarrassed. How could she have thought he'd be angry at her for their… misunderstanding the day before? There she was, trying to be polite, and he was just laughing at her, without compassion.

She wanted to leave, so she grabbed the remaining of her things and reached for the handle of the door. But a hand grabbed hers. It was surprisingly warm.

"Sorry Granger. It didn't come out right. I didn't mean it that way." From his tone and his look, she knew he was deadly serious in his apology. Although a glint of emotion remained in his eyes. "Its just I haven't been raised to…" he brushed his hair away from his troubled look "to appreciate other beings rather than purebloods. And this situation…" he motioned between them "its just the cherry to my day".

She snorted.

"I mean it. My comment was unthoughtful." He paused. "I really hope your cat lives a long and healthy life." There it was, his smirk. But it wasn't that bad this time; at least it came with an apology and she could sense it was just to release tension.

She sat down and took out her parchments again.

So What?

So he'd laughed at the absurdity of the situation. She, Hermione Granger, defending a cat in front of infamous Draco Malfoy. It had been ages since a laugh had come out so easily from his throat.

But of course she had to take it badly. He could, however, understand her. They were both so stubborn and defensive against each other it was bound to happen _every_ time they talked. He was surprised it hadn't happed until then.

The rest of the meeting had run smoothly, him laying out her options, and she nodding and pointing out some arguments in favour or against them. In the end, they had –surprisingly- reached useful conclusions.

When they were shaking hands, he could see she wanted to ask him something. And he knew what it was. But it had been her who had started their semi-fight (or whatever) the day before, so it had to be her who had to raise the topic. But she kept her mouth shut and just muttered a 'see you soon'.

As soon as she left, he let out a breath he was holding and cursed Blaise again.

The rest of the day, even though he took a Pepper-up potion, he just couldn't concentrate in his work.

He left for home early and took a long shower.

 _***Today_

She'd be there. He knew she would. So he just breathed deeply and entered the bus.

It was more crowded than usually, so it took him at least the double of time to get to her than it normally would.

"Good morning, Malfoy" she said, looking up from her book.

"Good morning, Granger" he replied smoothly.

"I spoke to Harry yesterday"

Of course she wouldn't waste a day. He could see her eyes gleaming, and he didn't know if he felt scared or intrigued.

"He'll be hosting a fundraising party for the project," she said proudly.

Poor Potter. From what he'd read in the papers and heard around the Ministry The Boy Who Lived to Kill all Evil was quite reluctant to celebrations and any other matters if he was the centre of them. It must have taken Granger quite a bit to convince him. Still, Potter had always had a soft spot when it came to her.

He saw she was looking at him inquisitively, still waiting for an answer.

"Congratulations are in order, then," he said sincerely "I'm sure it's going to be a great party."

"You won't come? After all, it was your idea."

Uh-huh. That was a dangerous question. If someone was less prone to the spotlight than Potter, that was Draco Malfoy. So he gave her a lie. Well, there was a little truth in it.

"Granger, you know I'm not welcome in these type of parties. Big bad ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy." He smirked. "Although in this case, I'm sure no-one would object to receiving my family's money" Or what's left of it, at least.

The bus stopped, and looking around, Draco suddenly remembered it was time to get down.

"See you, Granger," he said, turning around, his coat moving dramatically behind him.

"Malfoy, wait!" She got up and held his forearm. He noticed how tight she held him. "Show them. Show them you're not as bad as everybody thinks".

He had to get down now or he'd miss his daily walk to the Ministry. Damn her and her chocolate eyes.

She kept talking "just… just help me plan it" she paused, "I'm really busy and I need help with…what are the laws regarding fundraising and donations".

It was a lie, and they both knew it. But it had been some time since someone had asked him for help without them _having to._

He nodded, because he just didn't know how to answer.

"Same time, same place?" She ventured, blushing a bit.

He nodded again, and without wanting to think too much about it (if he'd had more time, he was sure he'd back down) he left the bus.

He saw her gather her things clumsily and follow him out. So now they also shared a stop? He groaned, a small smile trying to reach his lips.

Please, Review! I really like to hear your thoughts, opinions & ideas!


	8. Chapter 8

**So what?**

So it was the first time he had bought something. She knew she shouldn't get her hopes up, but there she was, smiling fondly at the budget she had in her hands.

"So what do you think?" He said shifting nervously. She noticed he was wearing an impeccable black suit with grey tie. She knew he was disguising himself and it was only for the show of the muggles in the bus, but she knew this meant he really put an effort every time they rode in the bus. After all, he _did_ change his tie everyday.

She checked the file again. She had seen in his eyes the need for approval. The bus turned left and she saw him move slightly to the right to balance the bus' movement. She was in one of the seats with all the papers (concealed parchments) around her.

"Good work, Malfoy. I think we'll move forward with this budget."

He looked at her strangely and raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Come on, Granger. I can't believe you don't have the slightest objection to these numbers."

She bit her lip thoughtfully. She wouldn't want her comments to make him go back after the progress they'd made. On the other hand, he was old and clever enough to take it. She scrutinized the numbers again.

"Only one comment; I think we don't need Timothy Sparks a speaker for the gala. I have someone in mind who will do it for free… and this way we can spend 300 galleons less." She paused, lifting her hand to her chin distractedly "well, maybe I'll spend a few of those if I have to invite Ron to dinner to convince her, but I'm sure…" she stopped, realising she was talking out loud.

She heard him whistle and could almost hear the smirk behind.

"Its true, then. You and Weasley? You know, I always thought you'd pick someone more… knowledgeable".

That comment struck her. Not because of the implications –she'd analyse them later on- but because during those bus rides, they rarely talked about anything else other than the upcoming Gala. He'd never asked her about where she had lunch on Sundays and she'd never asked him what his favourite dish was. Her love life was _way_ too much to start with.

She knew he was just teasing, but it annoyed her nonetheless. Maybe it was because she was tired of everyone prying into her private life or maybe because of the chance of those words being true.

 **So what?**

"Its true, then. You and Weasley? You know, I always thought you'd pick someone more… knowledgeable".

So he didn't know why he'd asked that question. His best guess was that the Gala was something _they_ , Granger and him, were managing; involving Weasley in their project was not something he was willing to do. Weasley or anyone else, for that matter. Of course, Weasley would be the last one he'd invite to join them.

When she didn't answer, he diverted his gaze to the nearest person on his left. It was a girl in her late teens or early twenties, dressed impeccably in pink. She was wearing light make up with long, straight, blonde hair. When he eyed her, she quickly blushed and looked away.

Although it was nothing new to him, he still relished every time he had that effect in a woman or a girl. It normally did not happen in the wizard world, given the reputation of the Malfoy name, so he sometimes forgot it when he was surrounded by muggles. She guessed she was working in some office or shop, as part of the customer service. He could see it in her sweet face and her well thought attire. It was a shame he wasn't into blondes, really. Imagine their kids, with even paler hair than his; and the thought of his parents' face telling them he was marrying a muggle! That would surely be something to see. Maybe he could pull that trick some day. He smirked at the thought.

"Its none of your business" she said "but just so you know, there's nothing serious between us."

He hadn't expected her to elaborate or explain herself, but when she did, he felt that if she had done it, it meant his opinion mattered to her. And somehow, this mattered to him.

"So there _is_ something going on" he didn't know why he pressed the issue "I bet dear Ronniekins is already thinking on the names of the seventeen kids and hoping you'll take cooking lessons from his mom so you can do that stew he loves while you stay at home taking care of the kids."

She kept her eyes downcast and didn't answer in the next five seconds. Or the following ten. He was starting to worry he'd overstepped the boundaries and broken the fragile glass they were walking on all these days in the bus.

"Look, I'm sorry, Granger, that was a nasty thing to say. I can be quite… unfeeling-" she snorted "-it was just meant as a comment without malice"

Instinctively and awkwardly, he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. What made him to do that, he still was not sure.

"Draco Malfoy, are you sure of what you just said?"

When he saw her eyes shine and a small smile tugging her lips, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and his muscles relaxed visibly.

"I should have taped it-"

"Tee-pit? What the-"

"Hear out everyone" she said to no one in particular.

He noticed some of the people near him –including the blonde- turned around to listen to her. She looked beautiful with that playful look and gleam in her eyes. Granger, not the blonde; although maybe, he should be thinking that about the blonde and not Granger. Whatever.

"Draco Malfoy, comforting me and assuring me he's saying things without _malice_ "

He could keep up.

"Shhh, Granger, be careful or my dear Salazar Slytherin will rise from the dead and kill me for tainting the name of his oh mighty house!" He whispered, leaning closer to her.

Then he heard it. A giggle. _Her_ giggle. More than one. And he couldn't believe it, but suddenly they were both laughing naturally at his joke, as if they had been friends form the very beginning. As if he'd never insulted her or tainted her name. Or as if she'd never been tortured in his childhood house.

He suddenly was at loss and did not know what to do with those feelings that had just surfaced, but he was lucky enough to see that their stop was the next one.

"Time's up, Granger"

What possessed him to hold out his hand for her, he did not know.

And why she took it, still made less sense, but just for a bit of reassurance, he pressed it a bit.

A bit fluffy, I know. Just tell me what you think.


End file.
